Slow Train
by Formerly Known As
Summary: This is the story of the land of nightmares and the people who sometimes get stuck there.
1. When Dreaming Ends

Slow Train   
By Formerly Known As

Ever wondered where nightmares go? Where do they reside when people no longer let them haunt their heads?

And what happens to those people who can't let go of a nightmare, who never let it escape? What happens to them, when the nightmare returns home?

This is a story of the places that nightmares flee to when the world tries to destroy them. This is the story of the land of nightmares and the people who sometimes get stuck there.

It's a Slow Train, baby. You ready for the ride?

Disclaimer: Sonic the Hedgehog and company are all copy right Sega. This story is copy right me. Feel free to take the nearest station off, if it so appeals to you.

(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*

_Prologue  
When Dreaming Ends _

There was cold metal all around him. Cold, icy steel, sometimes woven into grid patterns, sometimes just smooth, dull sheets. Bordered with lifeless white plastic on occasion. He looked to his right, nothing but cold steel. He looked to his left. Cold steel again. He glanced behind him. A wall. A dead end. A sheet of cold steel. He looked ahead. 

Blackness.

He was in a hall, he realized. The end of a hall. And ahead of him the hallway stretched, all cold steel and white plastic. 

But there was no light at the end of this tunnel. Everything was black. Except for where he was standing.

He shivered and tried to move away from the darkness. But all he did was press his back into the cold, rigid steel wall behind him. He shivered again as the cold steel sucked away what little warmth he had left in him. But he didn't move away from the wall. Because away from the wall meant closer to the darkness.

And he really didn't want that.

Suddenly, the cold silence around him that he hadn't even realized existed was broken by a scream. 

His eyes widened. He knew that scream. He didn't know from where, but he knew that scream and he knew it well. It was a high pitch scream to begin with, but growing shriller as time went by. The volume was increasing as well.

She was in pain. Yes, she, he realized. The one screaming was a female. And she was in pain and the pain was increasing. 

His fist clenched. They were hurting her. He wouldn't allow that.

But looking forward, he realized that to reach her he would have to pass through the darkness. The black, unwelcoming darkness.

He growled, clenching his teeth. It didn't matter.

He had failed her once. He wouldn't EVER do so again.

So taking a deep breath, he bent his knees and pushed off from the wall and ran forward into the darkness ahead.

The darkness closed in instantly, fitting tightly around him like a glove. But the scream ran through, piercing the gloom, telling him which way to go. Reassuringly, beneath his feet he could hear the clang of his shoes hitting the metal floor. He used the sounds, of her scream and of his feet to keep him sane. To keep him from giving up in the darkness.

There. The scream changed directions. It was to the left. 

He turned swiftly, feeling the faintest brush of cold metal on his arm as he passed through a doorway. He kept running, focusing on the scream and the clap of his feet.

Her screaming was growing louder still, more intense. His eyes narrowed.

He wouldn't let them hurt her. Not ever again.

He took a sudden right, still following the sound of her scream. He was closer now.

But something was going wrong. The scream continued strong as ever, louder even. But cold steel walls had begun to capture the sound. They began to throw the sound around, to bounce it off the walls. To twist it around and make it sound like it was coming from a completely different direction.

But he wouldn't give up. He HAD to find her. To stop them from hurting her. To save her as he hadn't been able to, so long ago.

A tiny part of his mind, detached and lost cried out inside of him. 

__

Who?! It cried. _Who am I trying to save? Who is screaming? And why, oh, why can't I find her!?_

And he realized that in that, at least, the voice was right. He should have found her by now. Her voice, her tortured scream, it was so close. But the bouncing echoes were confusing him and he kept taking wrong turns, moving away from her screams. But he couldn't turn around and go back. He couldn't slow down. If he did, the steady rhythm of his feet would be lost and the darkness would have him. 

And he really didn't want that.

But he listened to the scream and tried to follow it. Tried to find her.

Where was it coming from? Was it coming from the right, from the left? Had he passed the very door that led to her?

Panic began to rise.

Where was she? Right? Left? Straight ahead? Where was she?! Where?! Where?! WHERE?!

There she was! He could hear her! She was to the left. She was close! He could hear her!

He turned left then, turning sharply and quickly. But he judged wrong. She wasn't there. There wasn't even a door there. The echoes had won, the steel had won. The darkness had defeated him.

He slammed into the solid wall and bounced off again, hitting the floor.

He lay there in the dark, panting softly, tears spiking the corner of his eyes. The darkness lay around him, upon him, heavily. Her scream had stopped, no longer there to guide him. Even the echoes began to fade out, though not without a few parting taunts. His footsteps tapping against the metal weren't there either.

It was silent again. Only now it was silent and he was in the darkness.

He felt like crying.

He heard it then. A soft, almost inaudible sound. Like dry parchment scraping across concrete. He shivered, but pretended he hadn't heard it.

But it came again. Dry parchment on concrete.

No. Like scales on steel.

He froze. He thought suddenly of the wall. It hadn't felt like metal, now that he thought of it. Too rough. Not smooth. It felt a little like the grid patterns that sometimes occurred in the metal on this cold heartless place. Only, not so even.

And not as cold. Not nearly as cold as steel. In fact the wall hadn't felt cold at all. It hadn't been warm, but it hadn't been cold. In fact, it felt sort of like…like…

Like a living thing.

His breath catching in his throat, he looked up slowly, not really wanting to.

The darkness had not changed at all around him and yet he could see everything perfectly. Every detail, every curve.

Every cold, black scale.

He could see perfectly the sightless beast towering over him. He could see where the eyes should have been, but weren't. He could see every wire and bolt that filled that sightless eyehole. In all its horrid glory, gross magnificence, he could see the creature he thought he had destroyed once and for all long ago.

The Biolizard.

He screamed in fear and kept on screaming and screaming, as the massive toothless maw opened and lowered towards his head.

His screams echoed upon the steel walls and fell back upon his ears his ears. They echoed through all the empty halls and he wondered if they reached her own ears and he wondered if she knew to whom the screams belonged.

He felt its tepid breath soak his face and its hot, sticky gums close upon his head and he felt himself being lifted up and up and…

With a start, Sonic the Hedgehog woke up, his heart pounding, his breathing ragged. He reached up and gently touched his head, but felt no sign of giant lizard drool upon it.

"A dream," he whispered. "Just a dream."

His green eyes searched the dark room desperately, seeking any signs of enemy or danger. 

Then he sighed. Of course there wasn't any danger. The Biolizard was completely destroyed, as was its second incarnation, the Final Hazard. It was gone and couldn't come back. He had made sure of that.

It had all just been a dream.

Sonic lay back down, slowly, trying to relax and go back to sleep. But sleep didn't want to come to the blue hedgehog and even after he finally sank back into a restless sleep, his ears still twitched backwards and forwards, trying to pick up the sound of screams echoing on cold hard metal.


	2. Morning

Slow Train  
By Formerly Known As 

Disclaimer: Sonic and company are property Sega. I own them only in my dreams, and Sonic's nightmares.

__

Part 1  
Morning

The sun rose slowly, sending weak, flickering rays across the landscape. Sonic watched from his bed as the first tentative rays spread out across his far wall. He sighed with the mixed emotions of relief and frustration as yet another night came to its end.

It had been yet another lousy night for Sonic the Hedgehog. He had barely slept at all, and what sleep he did manage to get was haunted by nightmares. He wasn't really certain anymore which he preferred, the sleeplessness or the nightmares. The nightmares were hellish things, never the same, yet each had a certain resemblance to every other. Sort of like episodes in a TV series, Sonic mused to himself. A lot of the same characters, reoccurring plots, complete with their own set of retched cliches even. Each unique and horribly special, and yet still a part of a whole. And he always managed to get the role of lead actor. Too bad no one had bothered to give him a script.

And yet, on the other hand, the lack of sleep was really wearing at the hedgehog. He couldn't run at his usual speeds, for his normal instinctive attention and reaction to little details while running (useful in keep him from hitting things, running into things, tripping over things, or doing other things that aren't normally a big deal unless you happen to be traveling at speeds nearing the sound barrier) turned out to be not so instinctive. He had realized this on a run down the jungle paths of the Mystic Ruins when he nearly broke both his legs in a nasty tumble he would normally have avoided. In fact, it was a tumble he had avoided many times before, usually with absolutely no thought at all. But with as little sleep as he'd been getting lately, normal day to day tasks were quickly becoming chores that Sonic was just too weary to tackle.

What was more, Sonic was beginning to worry what he'd do if Robotnik decided to try and take over the world again. Defeating Eggman's evil ploys were never a walk in the park, though Sonic did enjoy the challenge. But with Sonic as weary as he currently was, he just didn't know if he would be able to cut it. He already wasn't even able to run at his regular speeds. How would he ever be able to handle the complex stunts needed to defeat Eggman? It would be easy to lose a battle in the condition he was currently in, or even get himself killed. 

What was worse, Sonic feared he'd let his friends down. His last adventure, the whole ARK epic, had taught the hedgehog just how easy it was to lose someone. Sonic had thought he had won, thought it was all over. He had been cocky, confident in that last minute. And, though Sonic couldn't prove it for sure, he couldn't help but feel that if he had kept his guard up, kept on his toes just a little longer, that he could have saved Shadow. But he hadn't. And Shadow had died because of it.

Sonic's ear twitched slightly, hearing drawers and cupboards being opened and closed, and plates and bowls and silverware clinking softly. Sonic smiled a little. Sounded like Tails was up already. The kit had always been an early riser (provided he didn't stay up all night tinkering with some new invention) so it didn't surprise Sonic to hear him bustling about in the kitchen, preparing breakfast from the sounds of it. Sonic left the young fox to it for a time, knowing that Tails enjoyed his early morning time alone, preparing breakfast and fiddling with the toaster that, despite all of Tails's genius, never worked properly.

Sonic smiled slightly, as Tails began to hum softly in the other room, out of tune as usual. Tails was Sonic's best friend, practically his little brother. The two had been together for a long time now. Sonic had, almost single-handedly, raised the little fox, from the lost and lonely seven-year-old who'd trailed him through the forests, to the budding eleven-year-old genius he was now. It hadn't always been easy for either of them, but somehow the two had survived together and Sonic wouldn't have it any other way.

But now that Tails was becoming older, old enough to join the fight against Robotnik (after all, Sonic himself had begun fighting and defeating Robotnik at the age of nine), Sonic began to worry what would happen to his young friend. Tails was smart and clever and more than capable of handling himself against anything Robotnik could throw at him. But Sonic still worried. He had seen, when Shadow, a fellow he barely knew, who was maybe his enemy, definitely his rival, and possibly, just maybe, a friend, had died with Sonic unable to help him, that it didn't take long to lose a friend. Death could happen within seconds, someone you cared for could be gone before you even realized it. And there was nothing you could do to reverse death.

Sonic sighed and decided he had better get himself out of bed before he got stuck on such a depressing train of thought that he'd feel like killing himself. Or someone else.

He tossed the tangled covers aside and grabbed his gloves from the bedside table. He slipped them on, while swinging his feet over the edge of the bed and into his soap shoes, left conveniently at the edge of the bed. He then hopped out of bed and wandered over to the door. He glanced at his reflection in a mirror next to the door, running his hands through his spines a few times, then shaking his head a bit to get them to lay normally. He considered taking a shower, but decided he'd con breakfast out of Tails first, before Tails became to involved in an invention to worry about fixing breakfast (or lunch as it sometimes was by the time Sonic got up) for a starving hedgehog.

Sonic slipped out of his room and down the hall.

"Hey," he said to Tails, plopping himself down on a chair near the table.

Tails looked up in surprise from the pancakes he was fixing. When his gaze met Sonic's, worry flashed across the young fox's face.

"You had those dreams again, didn't you?" he asked softly.

Sonic sighed and shook his head. "No. I had those _nightmares _again."

Tails shook his head, looking back to his pancakes. "This isn't good, Sonic. How long have you been having them now?"

Sonic folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them. "Don't know. About…three weeks maybe?"

Tails swallowed nervously. Three weeks? Sonic had been having them for that long? Tails had known the nightmares had been plaguing the hedgehog for a while now but _three weeks_? That was ridiculous.

"Maybe…maybe you should see someone about them, Sonic," suggested Tails cautiously.

Sonic snorted. "Who would you suggest?" he asked sarcastically. 

Tails shrugged. "I don't know…a psychiatrist maybe?" he said tentatively.

Sonic looked up. "See a shrink?! No way! I'm just having nightmares! I'm not crazy!"

Tails flipped his pancakes over carefully. "But has it really been three weeks? That's a REALLY long time. I'm not saying you're crazy…but if it's been three weeks…then something's wrong, Sonic. And…you should get some help to fix it."

Sonic crossed his arms stubbornly. "No way Tails. I'm NOT seeing a shrink."

Tails shrugged, placing some pancakes on a plate. "Okay. Not a shrink then. But there's probably SOMEONE who can help you. Maybe Miss Rouge would help you out."

Sonic gave Tails an incredulous look. "Rouge? How could SHE help me?"

"Didn't you know? Miss Rouge was studying to be a psychiatrist before she became a treasure hunter and professional spy. She's not an actual psychiatrist, but she's had some training as one. She could help."

"I don't know," Sonic said suspiciously. "I don't think I really trust her. Besides, how do you know so much about her?"

"Well Amy told me some, she and Rouge have become really good friends after the whole ARK thing. Being, you know, the only two girls in our group."

"I didn't know Rouge qualified as part of our 'group'" muttered Sonic.

"And also," continued Tails with a grin over his shoulder at his older friend, "I did a little research on her on my own!"

Sonic grinned. "Get out of here! You did some research on the mysterious bat girl?"

Tails grinned happily himself, plopping down a plate full of pancakes in front of Sonic. "Yep! I hacked into government files and everything! Amazing the kind of random information they keep on employees."

Sonic laughed. "You little scallawag! So does Rouge know?"

Tails shook his head as he grabbed the butter and syrup, placing them in the middle of the table, then returned to the stove to fetch his own helping of pancakes. "Nope, and I'm sure not telling her! She'd pro'ly kill me or something. Did you know she knows like five types of jujitsu and other fighting styles? She's really well trained."

Sonic snorted, drizzling syrup all over his pancakes. "I didn't, but I bet Knuckles did!"

Tails gave Sonic a confused look. "Huh?"

Sonic just grinned bigger and began shoveling pancake in his mouth.

Tails shook his head, wondering if he'd missed the joke, but followed suit and began eating with relish. But as he continued to devour his own breakfast, Tails watched Sonic out of the corner of his eye.

And the young fox didn't like what he saw.

It was plain to see, even to someone who didn't know the blue hedgehog as well as Tails, that Sonic was on his last leg, so to speak. The hedgehog was simply, utterly exhausted. The circles under his eyes stood out clearly, a bad sign, since Sonic's fur usually covered them up well. His quills and fur had a slightly greasy look to them and it appeared that the hedgehog was getting EVEN thinner. Even the hedgehog's manner, as he hungrily devoured pancakes, spoke of tremendous weariness. His legs were sprawled out underneath the table, Sonic was wasting no energy to keep them up. Even his back and shoulders were slumped forward. In fact, the only thing Sonic seemed to be putting any energy into at all was just remaining sitting in the chair and shoveling pancake into his mouth.

And this was a very bad sign to see in the normally high energy hedgehog, who held his shoulders high (even when frantically devouring breakfast), who (despite his tendency to run off into some dirty messy situation) always kept his quills immaculately groomed, who was always moving, always full of energy…of life. It boggled Tails to see his hero looking like this, looking this exhausted. Even in the middle of a mission, off fighting Robotnik, missions that lasted days on end with little rest and even less food, the hedgehog always maintained his poise. To see him breaking down like this, even when he KNEW Sonic was trying to keep up his appearances…it scared Tails. It scared Tails very badly.

But if this had really been going on for three weeks…Then it was little wonder the hedgehog was looking like this, unable to maintain appearances.

But it still left Tails feeling scared and lonely and helpless.

Because it didn't take a genius to know the hedgehog would be next to worthless in any battle situation.

Sonic, as usual, finished eating first. He always had to be the fastest at everything it seemed. The blue hedgehog looked up at Tails, an almost pleading look in his eyes. 

"Hey, Tails. Got any more?" he asked.

Tails laughed a little, pouring even more syrup over his own pancakes. "Nope! And if you're so desperate for some more you can make them yourself!"

The hedgehog sighed faintly in frustration, but apparently Sonic wasn't all that hungry because he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table and waited for Tails to finish eating.

The young fox proceeded to do so, still chuckling slightly. Things were bad, but they weren't too bad yet, for as long as the hedgehog retained his appetite, the world was still functioning properly.

Not far behind the hedgehog, Tails finished up his meal and leaned back as well, with a sigh of contentment. "So…what are we going to do today, Sonic?" he asked shyly. As of late, the two had been busy doing separate things, living separate lives. It was unusual for Tails to ask what they were going to do, for usually, each one had their own plans for the day, be it racing or tinkering with a new invention or even simply lounging around.

But Sonic seemed oblivious to this aberration, as he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Well…" began Tails, taking Sonic's silence as an encouraging sign. "If you don't have any plans…why don't we go to Station Square and see if we can't find Rouge or Amy? It'd be nice to see Amy, again," Tails hurried on, seeing the slightly disgusted look on Sonic's face. "We haven't seen her since…what? The Ark Incident?"

Sonic flinched a little at the mention of Ark, but nodded. "Yeah. We've all been really busy as of late. It WOULD be nice to see how Amy's doing, even if she is a total pain."

Tails grinned. "Then it's settled! We're off to Station Square. If we hurry, we can probably catch the early train!"

Sonic sighed a little, remembering once again how ridiculously early in the morning it was, but he flashed Tails a quick grin, crossing his legs on the table. "Who needs to hurry when you've got my speed?"

Tails laughed. "Yeah, well, even with your speed, we'll get nowhere if you just lounge around all day. Come on, Sonic! Let's go!"

With that the young fox grabbed both plates off the table, dumped them in the sink, and whizzed out of the house, tails spinning like mad.

Sonic shook his head. "What's that kid been puttin' in his pancakes? Pure sugar?" Then he shrugged. "Then again, why would he need to put anything IN the pancakes when he pours half the bottle of syrup over them? Hey, Tails, wait up for me!" he called after his young protégé.

The blue blur streaked out of the house after the little fox, who was busy laughing and catcalling over his shoulder.

Sonic returned both catcalls and laughter to the young fox, dashing off after him. For a time, he left the nightmares, the stress, he let it all go and simply raced his young friend across the Mystic Ruins to the train station.

For now, it would be enough.

For now, it was all he had.


	3. Narcissus Wine

Slow Train  
By Formerly Known As

Disclaimer: Characters are copyright Sonic Team. Writing is copyright Formerly Known As. Steal and I can give you worse nightmares, sweetheart.

_To the OutCasts, with love and vengeance_

_Part 2  
Narcissus Wine_

It was dark. Gloomy. Your general, ordinary spooky setting.

Except for the fact that he knew this place was real. He'd been here before, walked the eerie halls. Listened to the metal echo under foot.

Echo

Echo

It hadn't changed. Not at all. Not even the dust had been smudged from the floor and the walls. Not that there was much dust, not up here. 

But there was some, settled across the walls and floor in a soft, fuzzy layer. Blurring edges just a little. Muffling sounds, just a little.

But not much.

Echo

Echo

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to calm himself. He was nervous, he couldn't relax.

This place. So much darkness, so much cruelty. So much death. All in one place. He fought back a shiver.

Echo

Echo

He came to the intersection suddenly. Or rather, the intersection came to him suddenly. He couldn't recall seeing it ahead of him…yet here it was. 

One way going right. 

One way going left.

He stopped in the middle of the intersection, trying to decide which was the right way. He should know this, _How?_ he knew he should know this. _Why?!_ He knew this whole place like the back of his hand! _Why, how do I know this place so well?!_

But still, he didn't know which way to go.

_Probably help if I knew where I'm going._

His echoes caught up with him as he stopped.

Echo

Echo

….

Echo…

He froze, instantly. He thought…he thought he heard something. Echoes beyond the ones he himself had created. The sound....the sound of someone else moving about.

Silence.

Nothing but silence all around.

Somehow, he did not find that at all comforting.

He thought about running, if only so that there would be noise again, real noise and not this endless silence that felt so loud...so loud...

But he knew, or thought he knew or could feel he knew....that if he moved again...so would whatever else was out there. And it would chase him, hiding in his own echoes. And it would gain on him...and gain on him...

And then it would attack him, when he didn't expect it, when he couldn't fight against it.

A faint ream of sweat broke out on his brow. He didn't like this. This wasn't fair. Whatever was out there, it wasn't playing fair. Not at all.

It was _cheating_.

And he couldn't tell it not to, couldn't stop it, couldn't do anything against it.

And he couldn't complain to anyone, or ask for any help or turn to anyone at all.

Because there was no one here but him...and whatever was hunting him.

The utter unfairness of the situation began to not only scare him...but also really annoy him.

He growled low in his throat, looking left, looking right. Both corridors were identical, equally inscrutable and vague.

He sighed and growled again, randomly picking a direction. It didn't matter which, either way he was just as lost...on so many levels.

He walked slowly, knowing that he was still being hunted, still followed. The echoes chimed through the narrow corridors.

Echo

Echo

Nothing could be heard but the sound of his own feet and their echo. 

The fact didn't reassure him.

Echo

Echo

He kept his ears flat against his head, but some instinct kept him from looking back. Because he didn't know if he wanted to see the one hunting him...

And he knew he would not anyway...

Echo

Echo

....

Echo...

He gasped for breath moving slightly faster.

His hunter was growing anxious, wearing of the chase and heading in for the kill.

Not literally...

Not literally, he was sure...

Oh how he hoped not literally...

Echo

Echo

Echo

The echoes came faster now as he moved quickly along his way...and as his hunter chased after him, gaining ground quickly, readying to pounce, to attack...

To kill?

Oh he hoped not...

Yet knew, feared, it would...

Echo

Echo 

Echo

His breath came in hot gasps, ragged with fear.

His hunter did not breath at all.

Echo

Echo

Echo...

And then the tunnel came to an end, so suddenly he wondered why he had not seen it. But there was no light at the end of this tunnel. Or if there was, it was still too distant to reach.

But then the stars always had been too far away...

It was a cold sterile room, like very other, cold steel and blank white plastic. There were windows all around, opening the room up wide...

Opening it wide to the darkness of space beyond...

_The ARK! I'm on the ARK, I knew it, I knew it...._

The voice inside trailed off helplessly as he stared endlessly into the cold, empty space. There was no moon, no earth. Merely endless black...

Just like always...

Behind him he felt his hunter, moving in, moving in swiftly, but he made no move to get away, to dodge. He just stood there, staring blankly out into the endless depths which offered no solace....

They never did....

An icy claw closed gently on his shoulder...so gently as it slowly cut through flesh and skin and blood traced down long red rivulets into his fur. Dropping his head, he watched them, lines down his arms and legs, long red stripes...

_So dark....My fur...is so dark...._

It suited him. It suited his end....

He was feeling cold, the blood loss, he guessed. Or maybe just the empty space of stars beyond....it was so hard to tell sometimes....just what made him feel so cold inside. He looked away from the brilliant ruby blood...from the black emptiness of space, and turned to his hunter, his killer.

And he was caught, lost in those ice blue eyes, those familiar...so familiar ice blue eyes....killing him...so gently...so slowly...

And then he screamed.


End file.
